


The Allfather

by sabinelagrande



Category: Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Mob, Brother-Sister Relationships, Canon-Typical Violence, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-22
Updated: 2014-12-22
Packaged: 2018-03-02 21:18:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,171
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2826440
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sabinelagrande/pseuds/sabinelagrande
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The underboss of the Aesir family is dead, the consigliere is under suspicion, and it's up to Sif alone to keep the family from collapsing around her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Allfather

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Azaelle](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Azaelle/gifts).



Sif knew something was very wrong.

It wasn't like the Allfather to call for meetings so suddenly; Sif hadn't been expecting to be called on today at all. She was already on edge, but who could blame her? She'd expected the worst when a black car screeched to a halt in front of her apartment; she already had her hand on her gun before she realized it was Hogun and Fandral. Hogun took them at breakneck speed to the Aesirs' compound, and now they were in a small room in Odin's house.

There weren't many of them- just herself, Hogun, Fandral, and Volstagg- but the windowless room still felt cramped. No one said anything. Sif didn't know which would be more uncomfortable: finding words to break the silence or remaining silent forever.

Odin finally walked in, looking even more severe and serious than usual, and he waved his hand vaguely at them when they saluted. He stepped aside, and Heimdall followed him in, placing an ornate box on the table in the center of the room.

Now Sif knew that the worst had happened.

The Casket of Ancient Winters had been with the family since they'd left their lands and settled here. It was a symbol of the unshakeable power of the Aesir family, present at every baptism, every wedding, and every critical meeting.

And every funeral.

"My son Balder is dead," Odin said. Sif felt a cold chill go through her, and she could see from everyone else's expressions that they felt it too. Of Odin's three sons, Balder was the oldest and highest-ranking in the organization; since he'd been made underboss, the family had been prospering. There was no question that he was Odin's successor, and under him, the family would only grow stronger- or, Sif supposed, it would have.

"Other than Frigga, no one outside this room knows," Odin said. "Until I tell you otherwise, no one else is to know."

"What of his brothers, Allfather?" Fandral asked; it was perhaps unwise to challenge Odin right at the moment, but it was better to risk his anger now than to make a misstep later.

"None of this reaches Thor," Odin said fiercely. "Not a single word. His mother will deal with that."

Sif didn't find that surprising in the least. Thor was the golden child, groomed from birth to be the one who made good, the one who had a better life. Sif didn't exactly think it was a sound strategy; Thor was purposefully kept ignorant of most affairs of the family, but Sif knew that he'd learned to play dumb well enough to make people think he was ignorant in general. And besides, being forced out of the family was the opposite of what Sif wanted; she didn't understand why Thor would want it either.

"And Loki?" Hogun asked.

Odin's face was unreadable, and Sif was suddenly afraid Loki was dead too. He was the youngest, Mama Frigga's favorite; there would be repercussions for Balder's death, but she would rip anyone who hurt Loki to shreds with her bare hands. He was also Odin's consigliere, and if anything happened to him and Balder at the same time, there would be war.

"You three," Odin said, nodding to Volstagg, Hogun, and Fandral. "Heimdall will tell you what I need from you. Sif, with me." With that, the Allfather walked out, leaving Sif to follow him. 

Now she was absolutely petrified.

Not looking back at her, he walked down the hallway, all the way to its end. There was sunlight here, though this corner of the house was blocked in by latticework on every side. Odin still didn't look at her, staring out of the window instead. In the light, she could see how tired he looked, the lines and wrinkles in his face even worse than they'd seemed just a week before.

"The Jotunns killed my son," he said bluntly, still looking out the window. "They say Loki helped them."

Sif's eyes grew wide. "That can't be true, Allfather," she said. 

"I don't believe it," he said. "I _won't_ believe it." He turned, looking at her. "Guard him. Take him away to a safehouse and don't let him out of your sight. If anyone contacts you except Heimdall, do not trust them." He looked her in the eyes, his gaze intense, uncomfortably so. "You belong here, Sif. You always have, you and your brother both. But if you do this for me, you will be a full member of this family. Do you understand?"

This was the moment Sif had been waiting for her entire adult life, and most of her childhood. Sif had a strong enough understanding of biology to know that she and Heimdall were probably not related by blood, but she couldn't remember a time in her life that they hadn't been together. They'd been living on the street when the Aesirs took them in. They were very lucky that Mama Frigga had a fondness for strays, because trying to break into an outbuilding at the Aesir compound was not the smartest thing they'd ever done; she'd fed them and cleaned them up, and pretty soon they were living in a big clean house, had friends to play with, new clothes to wear. It was the best thing that had ever happened to either of them, and Sif was grateful to Odin and Mama Frigga every day.

That didn't mean Sif didn't realize they were different. They weren't blood, and everyone was clear on that fact. They'd had to earn their way up like any outsiders would; Heimdall had finally become a soldier not too long ago, but Sif still lagged behind. But this could be it, this could be the thing that finally made it happen. If Odin was already this concerned, it wasn't going to be easy, but she had to, and she would. 

"Yes, Allfather," she said, crossing her arm over her chest and bowing deeply. "On my honor, I will protect him with my life."

"Good," Odin said. "He's on the patio with his mother. Bring a car around the back, and leave."

"I won't fail," she told him.

"Go," he said, dismissing her.

Absolutely none of this had been in Sif's plans this morning, but none of those plans mattered now. She had to get Loki to safety. She had to defend him. Everything else would have to follow behind.

\--

The family owned several apartments in the city, and Sif drove around to examine them before choosing one, making last-minute turns and taking random routes to avoid anyone who might somehow have been following them. She didn't ask for Loki's opinion, because he'd pick the most luxurious one just to bother her, though he knew it was a bad plan. The safehouses in poorer areas of the city didn't seem to fit either; their car would be too conspicuous. Instead, she chose one in a quiet, middle-class neighborhood, a place that looked nothing at all like it might conceal organized crime.

The key to the house was concealed in a birdfeeder in the backyard, a necessary evil; Sif carefully checked the house before she let Loki inside. There was nothing particularly interesting about the house. It had a slightly musty smell, as if no one had used it in a while. Sif had no problem with that; there was nothing safe about a safehouse that people were constantly coming in and out of.

Loki set the bag he'd brought with him down on the table before walking around to examine the house. "No one ever leaves any books worth reading," Loki said, running his finger across the spines of the small collection of mystery novels on the shelf in the living room.

Sif raised an eyebrow at him. "If the lack of entertainment is our worst problem, we can consider ourselves very lucky."

"We can consider ourselves very bored as well," he said.

"If it becomes interminable, there's a book of crosswords in the kitchen drawer," Sif told him.

"How do you know that?" Loki asked, looking at her suspiciously.

Sif hesitated, wondering if she should tell him the actual reason. "There always is," she said. She could leave out the fact that Mama Frigga herself made sure of it; she knew it was one of the few things that would keep Loki busy, at least for a while.

Loki seemed to know she was hiding something, but he let it pass, walking back to the table and opening his bag, rummaging around in it. "Sandwich?" he said, holding up a wrapped package.

"How do you possibly have a sandwich?" Sif asked, slightly bewildered.

"Mother packed them," he said, putting it down on the table and taking another one out of his bag. "She wasn't going to send me into hiding on an empty stomach."

Loki was doing this on purpose, she knew. He knew how to distract people, and his favorite trick was pretending to be mundane, getting people stuck on minutiae while he readied his next attack. Sif was aware that she was being played, that Loki was trying to get her to drop her guard; she didn't know why yet, and it was entirely possible he was just doing it because he thought it was funny. Either way, she'd have to keep an even closer watch on him.

On the other hand, Sif hadn't eaten all day, and Mama Frigga's sandwiches were nothing to be turned down lightly.

She sat down across from him, and he slid a sandwich over to her. She was unsurprised when she unwrapped it and found it was her favorite; Mama Frigga would do no less.

"Like old times, isn't it?" Loki said, taking a bite of his sandwich.

Indeed, it wasn't the first time they'd shared a meal like this, eating sandwiches wrapped in butcher paper that Mama Frigga had made for them. In the summers, when they were children, they would find a sunny spot somewhere in the compound, a patch of grass under a tree or next to a hedgerow, and sit together, eating. Thor had been her closest friend, but she liked Loki; Loki was restful in a way that Thor never was. He was subtle and clever, and when she wasn't exasperated with him, she enjoyed it.

Things changed over time. It was clear by the time they were teenagers that Loki would never be the leader of the family, but he was a fast learner, a good strategist. He learned the business at a young age, listening to the older men and picking up the complex workings of the family like it was second nature. He was the youngest consigliere the family had ever had, but after a few key decisions, no one disputed his value.

It wasn't that way for Sif at all; her strengths had always been physical, and she had no problem getting her hands dirty. Their paths diverged, and it seemed to be permanent, whatever connection there was between them gone. They would only cross in moments like this one; she would do absolutely anything the family required of her, so she would be there in an instant if he called. It just wasn't particularly likely that he would.

"This is slightly different," she said.

"You're right," Loki said, looking at his sandwich. "Mother's been trying new bread recipes. She grew too much rosemary this year, and I think she's trying to get rid of it."

Sif snorted, shaking her head. "You can tell her I like it."

"I will," he said. "She'll be quite pleased."

They lapsed into silence after that; for the moment, Sif was far more interested in her food than Loki. Regardless of what happened, he'd have her full attention for quite a while.

"What do we do now?" Loki said when he was finished, pushing his wrapper away.

"If we're lucky?" Sif said. "Nothing."

Loki sighed. "Sounds fascinating."

Sif tried to avoid agreeing with Loki too often, as it made him overconfident, but she had to admit that it was ridiculously boring. Loki didn't seem particularly interested in talking, engrossed in a crossword puzzle, so Sif was attempting to plod through one of the less-than-thrilling thrillers that someone had left. It was hard to pay attention, partially because it wasn't interesting, partially because she kept looking up every minute or so, taking stock of the apartment again. She would have vastly preferred some help; surely Hogun or Fandral could be trusted to aid her, though Volstagg and Loki had never gotten along.

Instead it was just her and Loki, who seemed to be primarily concerned with his crossword and not particularly interested in the potential danger they faced.

"Family values," he said, tapping his pen against the paper. "Ten letters. C, blank, blank, a, n, o-"

Before Sif could respond, there was a noise at the door, someone jiggling the handle, someone who clearly didn't have a key; even if they did, no one was supposed to know they were here.

"Down," she hissed, shoving Loki to the floor. He made a noise of complaint, but quickly positioned himself behind the sofa, across from the door. Sif crouched beside the door, drawing her gun. She listened to the lock being picked, walking through the steps in her head, timing it. Her grip on her weapon tightened as she waited, time dragging on and on as she anticipated the door finally opening.

When they finally made it in, it took only moments to realize they were Jotunns, their intricate tattoos giving them away immediately. They were smart; the first one opened the door, but he didn't start firing when he walked inside, looking around before he waved the second one in. Unfortunately, surprise beat intelligence so many times in battle, and this time was no different. Sif shot the first one before she ever even moved from her position; when the second one whirled around to look, she tackled him, wrestling him into submission. He gave her a hard fight, but Sif was better, and soon enough she slammed him onto his stomach, sinking her knees into his back, his arms twisted behind him.

"Why have you come here?" Sif demanded, holstering her gun. "Say something useful, and I might even allow you to live."

"I have a message from Laufey," he said.

"What could Laufey possibly have to say?" she said. "If it's nothing but useless bragging, then I will definitely kill you."

"Balder is only the first," he gritted out, groaning in pain as Sif twisted his arm up again, at an even more painful angle. "The Aesir will fall."

"You miserable scum would challenge the might of the Allfather?" she scoffed. "He will turn you back without a thought."

"Laufey will see Odin's corpse," he said defiantly, "and he will laugh."

"Never," Sif said. She heard a noise above her, but before she could even react, another Jotunn dropped to the floor in front of her, a knife sticking out of his chest. Sif sighed, standing up and drawing her gun. "Return and tell Laufey you have failed."

"Burn in Hell," he said, turning over quickly and lunging towards his discarded weapon; Sif fired before he got anywhere near it, and he slumped to the floor.

"Guess he won't be telling Laufey," Loki said, walking over and retrieving his knife, wiping it off on the Jotunn's shirt.

"I'm certain Laufey will get the message soon enough," she said. She walked over, looking out the window; there was a sedan outside with another Jotunn standing next to it. Sif reached behind the television, finding the rifle that was hidden there. She opened the window a crack and put the barrel of the rifle in it, whistling; the man outside turned to look, and a moment later he crumpled to the ground.

She picked up a napkin off the table, wiping her fingerprints off the gun and dropping it onto the sofa. Their prints were all over the house, naturally, but that could be explained away; prints on a weapon always meant trouble, and it was worth the time to make sure they were gone. There was a button on the wall, a silent alarm that would alert those at the compound, and Sif hit it with her elbow. All hell would break loose in a few minutes, as people from the family swept in to deal with the damage.

She took a long look at Loki, wondering how far the rumors had spread about his involvement in Balder's death. She wondered what would happen when they arrived, people who were panicked and possibly angry, people who might think they had little to lose. She honestly didn't know whether they'd be safer here than in the street, the Jotunns on their tail.

"We have to get out of here," she said, and she could tell Loki knew what she was thinking.

"I know a place," Loki said.

Sif grabbed the set of keys hanging on the wall by the door. "Let's go."

The neighbors weren't home, but they did owe the family a favor; if Sif made it through this, she'd make sure they were reimbursed. They were about to rise to the call, whether they knew it or not.

"This hardly seems safe," Loki said, putting on a helmet.

"Do you have a better plan?" Sif asked, climbing onto the motorcycle.

"No," he said, climbing on behind her and wrapping his arms around her waist. "I just wanted to make sure you knew."

"Hang on," she said, revving the engine and taking off through the backyard. She hit the purposefully weakened spot in the fence, and they burst through, wood splintering around them. She didn't look back as they hit the pavement, just took out through the streets as fast as she could.

Loki's directions led her to an ultra-modern building in the business district, sandwiched in between gleaming office buildings. She gave Loki a look, but he said nothing. He climbed down and used a thumbprint scanner to open the huge elevator, waving Sif in before walking over to use the retinal scanner.

"Welcome, Doctor Hansen," the elevator said, whisking them upwards. Sif raised an eyebrow at him, but Loki merely shrugged.

"Would you like to know whose name is on the deed to this building?" he asked, as they exited the elevator. He waved towards a corner in the area between the elevator and doors to the apartment. "You can leave that here. The Allfather will send people to escort us when we go back to the compound."

"Yes, I certainly would," she said, dismounting and walking the bike over, depositing it by the wall.

Loki entered a code on the keypad next to the door, holding open for her. "This is the fine property of one Tony Stark," he said, sounding very proud of himself, and her eyes went wide. Stark was untouchable; Sif suspected that he mostly thought all of the families were too much hassle, and there was no way at all to buy him or touch any of his businesses. "Mister Stark is not interested in dealing with someone like me. Mister Stane, however, believes in making both friends and huge amounts of tax-free money."

The apartment was, predictably, one of the most lavish places Sif had ever seen in her entire life. She couldn't exactly enjoy it, however; she was still full of adrenaline, enough so that a lesser person might have been shaking with it. Loki walked in like he didn't notice at all, passing through the living area and into the spacious kitchen.

"Would you like anything?" he asked. "I don't have much, unfortunately. I can't exactly have someone come in and stock the place." Sif merely waved at him, and Loki shrugged, reaching into the refrigerator. As he rummaged around, she texted Heimdall on the burner phone she'd grabbed before they left the compound, letting him know what had happened. The reply didn't take long; when it came, she stared at it in disbelief.

"There were three other attempts today," she said, as he sat down on the couch, setting his drink down on the coffee table. "All in places you frequent."

Loki smirked, waving his hands as if he were doing a magic trick or spell. "With the right call, I can be ten places at once."

"Why are you so calm about this?" Sif asked, exasperated, walking over to face him.

Loki shrugged. "I have you to protect me."

"That's not it," she said. "You don't trust anyone like that, not even me." The change in his face was infinitesimal, but it was enough to make Sif's breath catch. "You know they're not trying to kill you." 

"I don't know why you think they'd waste the energy for that," he said. "Four of his men will be spending the foreseeable future in the woods, in a gully, wrapped up in a tarp. Even Laufey isn't quite that self-sacrificing."

"I know when you're lying to me," Sif warned. "Don't tempt me to force it out of you."

Loki gave her a long look, considering her. "I told them where I was," he said. "Laufey won't kill me, but an assassination attempt on a consigliere always looks nice."

"Did you kill Balder?" Sif demanded, and Loki looked away. "Look at me, Loki. If you don't tell me right now, I'll-"

"You'll do what?" he asked. "Kill me? I bet you'd love to explain that one to the Allfather."

"This isn't a game," Sif said, drawing her pistol and leveling him at him. "I want to hear it from you. I can't kill you, but I have no problem with shooting you."

"I would _never_ kill my brother," Loki said, staring at her coldly. "I am capable of many things, Sif. That is not one of them."

"Then what happened?" she asked, not moving her gun. "Who did?"

"The Jotunns," he said, sitting back. "They killed him, and then they came to me."

"For what?" she asked.

Loki sighed. "Put the gun away before you do something stupid. I'm not finished."

"Put your knife on the table," Sif said, and Loki pulled the dagger he'd used on the Jotunn out of the sheath on his ankle. "The other one too. Don't test me."

Loki sighed, reaching behind his back and producing his switchblade. "Are you happy now?"

Sif put her gun back in its holster. "Keep talking," she said.

"They came to me before anyone knew he was dead," he said. "They told me they could give me anything I wanted if I took the fall. I could be Laufey's closest advisor. I would never want for anything again. If Odin believed his consigliere had turned against his underboss, the family would be thrown into chaos, and the Jotunns would take advantage of the confusion, at considerably less risk."

"And you agreed to do it?" Sif asked.

"Of course I did," Loki said. He rolled his eyes when Sif's hand went to her holster again. "Will you stop that?" He sighed. "Do you honestly think for a single instant that Odin would ever believe I had aided Laufey?" He leaned forward. "And do you think I am so blinded by greed that I don't realize that he has nothing to offer me?"

Sif frowned in confusion. "What?"

He sat back, opening his hands. "I have everything I can possibly have. I will never be the boss. I will never be the underboss. I will be the consigliere until I die, and that is the way I want it. I am beholden to no one but the Allfather, and believe me, after much careful study, I have decided that his is a job I do not want."

"Then why would you agree to work for Laufey?" Sif asked.

"Odin will never believe Laufey, no matter what Laufey does or says," Loki said dismissively. "He could have my fingerprints on the knife and a photo of me standing over Balder's body, and Odin would not accept it. Laufey's poor attempt at sabotage will only backfire on him, because it will enrage Odin if he believes Laufey is lying about his son. It's possible I helped it along by arranging for Odin to receive evidence of the Jotunns' involvement."

"So you're playing Odin and Laufey against each other," she said, disgusted.

"War is coming, Sif," he said. "Balder's death cemented that. Even if my father does not survive it, the family will still triumph. And no matter what happens, Laufey won't touch me. He'll wait to kill me until the Jotunns have won." He snorted. "He just hasn't figured out that that's never going to happen. So I will be safe, the Jotunns will be dead, and everything will be better for all of us."

"You're a traitor," Sif said quietly.

"This is how we survive," Loki said. "You can call it what you want." He looked at her intently. "You don't live in the gutter anymore, Sif. If you are one of us, you have to stop thinking that way. Do you know why the Allfather wants you in the family?" Sif didn't respond. "Because no one else in the entire organization would ever pull a gun on me, even if they believed I was guilty of the ultimate treachery. You are completely fearless, but you have to start thinking like a consigliere, not a soldier. You could be my match if you would only _think_."

Sif was aware that that was possibly the biggest compliment that Loki had ever paid anyone. She didn't know quite what to think of it; Loki was a master of doubletalk, but that wasn't the kind of lying that he did. It was a risk, an admission of his lack of singularity, an offer of partnership. He'd never make a statement like that unless it was completely genuine; he always tipped his hand at the last second, proved that he believed in his own superiority over everything else.

Sif had no idea what to do.

"Now, do you want to tell the Allfather what I've done," Loki said slowly, "or do you want to do what's right for the family?"

She stood there for what felt like an eternity, just looking at him, weighing her choices. Finally she sat down across from him, taking her gun out of its holster and putting it on the table.

"You exhaust me," she said.

"It's a useful skill," Loki replied, shrugging. "Do you want a drink now?"

Sif should have said no; even though the danger had passed for the moment, they couldn't let their guards down. They had to keep their heads straight, or they could be in trouble in an instant.

"Yes," she said, sighing. "Yes, I do."

There would still be calamity waiting outside when they left. They could stand a little break before they entered the fray again.

\--

The room was airy, full of light, but Sif still felt like it was too close, too small. It wasn't overly warm, but she was sweating, wanting desperately to stand in front of a fan until she had chills.

This almost certainly had to do with the fact that she was about to marry the Allfather's son. In fairness to both of them, the majority of the problem was that she was about to do it in a ridiculously heavy dress.

"Are you nervous, child?" Frigga said, fastening Sif's necklace for her.

"Yes, Mama Frigga," Sif admitted; she'd never been good at lying to her, but she couldn't understand how anyone could be.

"There is no need," Frigga said, walking around to face her, avoiding Sif's skirt. "I have known you would marry my son from when you were children." She straightened Sif's sleeves, smiling to herself. "Loki didn't just find his equal in you. He met his match."

Sif frowned in confusion. "What?"

"A mother knows these things," she said. "I am glad you both realized before I had to take more drastic measures."

Sif had already suspected it was Frigga she had to thank for the time she spent guarding Loki. Things changed quickly after that. The Aesirs and the Jotunns were at war before Loki and Sif ever even made it back to the compound. The Allfather moved swiftly and decisively, and Laufey was crushed; Sif spent all of it at Loki's side, the consigliere's personal bodyguard, a position only a full member of the family would be suited for. The proximity took its toll, pushing them together, and now, two years later, she was here, about to be his wife.

Still, there was much to be concerned about, and Sif could see that Frigga could tell how heavily it weighed on her.

"You're worried what they'll say of you," Frigga said, and it was not a question.

"What happened when you married the Allfather?" Sif asked.

"I didn't marry the Allfather," she said, smiling. "The Allfather married _me_." She gave Sif a searching look. "Do you love my son?"

"Yes," Sif told her.

"Then that's that," Frigga said, brushing Sif's hair off her shoulders. "If they don't respect you, teach them the error of their ways."

There was a knock on the door, and one of the bridesmaids tentatively opened it just a crack, looking through it at them. "Mama Frigga," she said. "They want to know where you want the flowers at the end of the aisle."

Frigga sighed. "My work is never done," she told Sif, kissing her temple. "I'll be back soon."

She left, and Sif was all alone.

She looked to the pedestal in the corner of the room, the one her gaze had been straying to all morning. She walked over to it, feeling slightly like she should be hiding, though there was no real reason to. Everyone knew the Casket was sitting there, waiting to be carried down the aisle by her brother. Something about it just made Sif feel like she was intruding on a sacred thing.

She stopped just in front of it; she'd never actually been this close to it before, not that she could remember. She stared at it for a moment, trying to get up the courage; finally she reached out, laying her hand on its cool surface.

There was nothing small about this moment. There was a time when she wouldn't have been allowed unattended anywhere near it; before that, she hadn't even known it existed, hadn't known anything about this life at all. Now it was hers, for better or worse, and she would die before she gave it up.

The door opened, and Sif turned to look. "Are you ready, child?" Frigga asked, smiling secretively, clearly aware of what Sif had been doing.

"Always, Mama Frigga," she said.

"Then come," Frigga said. "We're waiting for you."

Sif walked away from the Casket, letting Frigga lead her out. No one could take it away from her now.


End file.
